


Skirt Chaser

by Lyra_Kero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bar/Club, First Meetings, Keith Wears a Skirt, Lance likes to flirt, M/M, Meet-Cute, and fishnet, he/they pronouns for keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Kero/pseuds/Lyra_Kero
Summary: Lance likes to flirt, likes making others happy. Pidge bets him that he can't flirt with any girl for the whole night, and Lance agrees to it. He won't flirt with anyone, not even the cute, black haired cutie in a red skirt...Well, Pidge only said he couldn't flirt with agirl...
Relationships: Ezor/Zethrid (mentioned), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 218





	Skirt Chaser

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for the better part of the month. I'd partially wanted to finish it by Valentine's Day but, that obviously didn't happen.

Lance liked to flirt. It was just how he was. 

He wasn’t running around, trying to get laid every chance he got, mind you. But he liked to flirt and be flirted with. It was a confidence boost. And if it made him feel good to make someone else smile and laugh, then what was the harm of sending a few cheesy lines someone’s way, and a couple winks to another? He usually struck out, a couple times he got a date out of it, but nothing really _solid_ , and that was fine. He didn’t need something solid to have a good time, just as long as the person he was talking to was enjoying themself, and he wasn’t putting _himself_ in an uncomfortable position, there was nothing wrong with flirting.

That was Lance’s logic. His _friends’_ logic was that he was chasing anything in a skirt and that was _not true_.  
“It is, Lance.” Pidge said, “last week we went to three different places, and you flirted with no less than six girls.” she picked up her glass, taking a sip.  
“And?” Lance pouted, crossing his arms as he slumped back in his chair. “What’s wrong with that?”  
“Nothing, Lance,” Allura said, trying to be the bridge of reason. “We just think that, you may want to slow down a little?”  
“I like to flirt!” Lance raised his hands, Hunk being kind and moving their drinks out of the way. “That’s how I met _you_!” he pointed to Allura, who nodded.  
“Yes, I remember.” she said, smiling at the memory of their first meeting.

Allura had been out in the heat, having broken up with her long-term boyfriend, and hadn’t been hydrating properly. Lance had caught her when she fainted, and his resulting response when she came to was to tell her she was right there in his arms, safe. Lance then had his arm twisted around his back when she panicked about the fact some strange man was holding her. They had been best friends since.

“Lance, you couldn’t stop flirting if your life depended on it.” Pidge muttered, crossing her arms.  
“I could!” Lance turned his attention back to the shortest member of their group. “I could _totally_ not flirt.”  
“Then prove it.” Pidge smirked, the lights somehow making her look more sinister than usual. “Don’t flirt with _any girl_ tonight.”  
“Done!”

And Lance leaned back in his chair, “I can totally not flirt with a girl.” He picked up his drink and looked around the bar.  
“ _Lance_ ,” Hunk prodded at his shoulder, “buddy you can’t _look for women_.”  
“Hunk-a-doo,” Lance sighed, “I’m not going to flirt, but Pidge didn’t say anything about people watching.”

Pidge and Hunk shared a sigh, Allura smiled, laughing quietly into her own drink. Allura was quickly taking over the position of Lance’s BFF tonight.

It wasn’t the first time Lance had just relaxed and watched people at a bar, or club, or retrocade. Pidge was exaggerating when she said he was always flirting, and tonight he’d prove a point and not flirt with any women.

Even as he thought that, his gaze fell on a group that had just settled down with their drinks. The group of four were smiling, laughing and dressed similarly in various punk clothes. Two of them, a slender woman with hair dyed hot pink and ears pierced more times than Lance could count from here, and a taller, broader woman in a black biker jacket and shorter hair dyed in streaks, seemed to be a thing. They snuggled close together, leaning into one another and touching each other’s hands while they talked with their friends. They were a cute couple and Lance found himself wishing them happiness.

His gaze slid to the other two girls, one who he could see the face of and one who had her back to him. The girl he could see had that gothy-punk vibe, lips painted dark and wearing all black leather with her short hair slicked and pulled back. She smiled, laughing at something one of the other women had said, teeth flashing bright in the light. Pretty, but not really Lance’s type.

The other girl? He really wished he could see more of her. What he could see? Lovely. Black, wavy hair pulled back, exposing her neck. A red cropped jacket that showed off her lower back - was that some ink he saw? _Nice_ \- and a red skirt, tasteful in it’s length, while showing off a lot of leg. A lot of leg covered in fishnet and some sensible looking black boots.  
God, it was a nice view.

“Lance, you’re drooling.” Pidge’s voice brought him back, and he turned, glaring at the short girl.  
“Am not.” he grumbled, though his hand still raised to his face. Nope, no drool.  
“Seriously, you’re like a dog.” she shook her head, crossing her arms while Hunk tried to follow his line of sight to see who his friend was looking at. 

“Is it the one who looks like she’s about to kick your teeth in?” Hunk asked, causing Lance to look back over to the table. Sure enough, Gothy Punk was glaring daggers at him, the Happy Couple was laughing, covering their mouths, and Crop Top was turned slightly. He couldn’t see her face, still, but she definitely noticed him.

“Stop it.” Pidge kicked at his legs, and Lance yelped, glaring at her. “You said you wouldn’t flirt.”  
“I’m not _flirting_ , you gremlin. I’m _looking_.” he huffed, “You never said anything about that.” He kicked his legs back, tagging her in the shins. When she swung back, she hit Hunk instead.  
“Children, behave.” Allura tsked, sipping her drink, daintily. 

Lance stuck his tongue out at Pidge, his gaze shifting back over to the table. The other three had fallen back into conversation, but Crop Top hadn’t moved back. She was still angled in a way that she could look back at him. He was _certain_ she was looking at him, now.

His own table began a conversation, and Lance felt his attention drawn back to his friends. Every once in a while, though, his gaze moved back over to the table. Gothy Punk seemed to be shooting Crop Top a glare, but Lance was more distracted with Crop Top seeming to be playing with her glass. She fished out the cherry, eating it. She waved the stem at Gothy Punk, and the Pink Lady of the Happy Couple threw her head back, laughing. The stem then disappeared.

Lance blinked, fighting to keep his attention from the other table, and failed when he saw Crop Top reproduce the stem. Even from the distance he was sitting, he could see that it had been tied into a knot. Crop Top’s head turned, so slightly, and she was _definitely_ looking his way.

Dammit. “I need a drink.” Lance grumbled, rubbing his face and stood up. He faintly heard Allura ask for a refill of her own drink, and Hunk and Pidge telling him to not go over to the table. Like he had that kind of strength of will.

He somehow made it to the bar, leaning against the counter and raised his hand. The bartender saw him, and held up a hand, seeming to be caught up in a rather large order a drunken group of girls was making. Lance nodded, relaxing as he took in the people around the bar. Nothing major, he was just trying to put Crop Top out of his mind.

So of course, he saw someone come up beside him. Someone in a red cropped jacket and skirt. He looked out the corner of his eye, and - of course. Crop Top was there. Her head was down, gently picking and playing with her fingers, nails painted a hot rod red. He saw she also had fishnet gloves on, as well. God, he just wanted to talk to her. Make her smile. Giggle and blush.

He wouldn’t lose this bet, he told himself, even as his head turned to face her fully, an easy smile on his face. “Hey.” Dammit. Ok, just _talk_ to her. Don’t flirt and prove Pidge right.

But he couldn’t even be mad about proving Pidge right, when Crop Top raised her head and beautiful violet eyes, framed with thick lashes and mascara, looked up into his own. “Hi…” 

And…. huh. Her voice was, uh… much deeper than he was expecting. And Lance wasn’t sure what he was thinking the voice was supposed to sound like, maybe accented? More lilting? Definitely softer, and…

And Lance had taken a long time to say anything. He realized that when he saw Crop Top’s face had gone from uncertain to wary. Body shifted away from Lance and gaze flicking away. And that wouldn’t do. Lance couldn’t have a pretty face like that look so distressed. But even while Lance’s brain was working out a proper response, his mouth had gone back to his high school GSA Club. “I’m Lance, he/him.”

And that worked. He thought. The uncertain look faded to one of confusion. Which then turned into a smile, and Crop Top snorted a giggle. And those pretty eyes were back on him. “I’m Keith.” A pause, then, “um, he/they?”

The two stared at each other, before Lance covered his face. “I’m sorry,” he groaned into his hands, “I swear I’m smoother than this.” Beside him, he heard Keith laugh.  
“It’s fine.” he said, raising a hand, and brushed some hair from their face “Honestly, my sister was probably about to come kick your ass.” He scooted closer, lightly checking his hip against Lance’s.  
“Me?” Lance blinked, looking back towards the table, seeing the group watching not so subtly, Gothy Punk glaring daggers over her glass.  
“She’s pretty protective over me.” Keith explained, shifting their weight. “It wouldn’t be the first time a guy showed interest, before realizing I wasn’t a chick.”  
“If it makes you feel better,” Lance looked back towards him, “I still think you’re pretty.” He paused for a moment, “Wait, are you alright with me calling you pretty? I can absolutely call you something else. Like handsome or attractive or-”

Keith began to laugh again, a blush painting their cheeks. “Pretty is fine,” they said, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve been called.” He looked back up towards Lance, “So feel free to call me whatever. I’ll let you know if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“So, can I call you anytime, then?” Lance grinned, feeling himself fall back into his groove. He watched Keith’s face scrunch up in confusion.  
“Why would you want to call me that?” he asked, before his eyes widened. “Wait, no. I got it.” Keith covered their face, cheeks burning bright red. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been flirted with.” Lance laughed softly, “Stop it, please.” They peeked back over to him, nudging him with their elbow, when Lance only laughed a bit louder.

When the bartender came around, the two ordered their drinks, before finding themselves falling into an easy conversation.  
“So, do you usually come here?”  
“Did you just _you come here often_ me?”  
“No! Well, yes, but I’m genuinely curious!”

And ordered another drink.

“So, you’re just here with your friends?”  
“Yeah, we come by every so often to hang out.”  
“My sister and our friends come here about once a week.”

And another drink.

“I’m sorry, you _stole a dog_?!”  
“Alright, look, they practically abandoned him! I was doing the poor baby a service!”  
“You could have called animal control? Or one of those dog rescue places? Not fucking _break into someone’s yard_.”  
“Yeah, well, I have a dog now. So, there’s that. Want to see him?”  
“Uh, _duh_ … Oh my Gosh, he’s so fluffy!!”  
“His name’s Kosmo and he’s a tub of lard…”

Lance cooed as he looked down at the phone, fawning over the black, fluffy dog that Keith had been talking about. “Is he part chow?”  
“Think so? He only has the black speckled tongue.” Keith shrugged, swiping to another picture that was a selfie of Keith and the dog.

Lance smiled, leaning against the table, and slightly against Keith. It was fine, since they were leaning against him, as well. He glanced up, hearing a familiar beat come over the speaker and grinned. “Hey, you wanna dance?”  
Keith looked up, blinking as the question sunk in, and grinned. “Yeah.”

Lance hadn’t looked over to his friend’s table as he and Keith walked out onto the dance floor, even if he noticed that Keith looked towards his friends, smiling and blushing when he heard one of them whistle as they walked by. He was more focused on Keith’s hand, tucked and linked with his own. The only thing he found himself focusing on was Keith. Keith, when they danced close together, eyes never straying from Lance. Keith, when they laughed while Lance turned a misstep and near trip into an impromptu waltz as he grabbed onto Keith and spun the two of them around.

And he focused on Keith when they looked up into his, eyes bright and twinkling in the club’s dim lights, their faces close together as they slowed down, arms around each other. Lance watched as Keith’s cheeks turned a faint pink, and their smile slowly grow, soft and comfortable as the two of them stopped swaying. He felt Keith’s hands slowly slide up, holding onto Lance’s shoulders, and Lance’s hands moved down to Keith’s hips, fingers gently brushing against the exposed skin of his hips, teasing through the top of the fishnets peeking out over Keith’s skirt.

Lance saw the way Keith’s eyes went wide and he jumped when a voice cut through the haze, startling him back. He spun around, pouting and glaring as Gothy Punk raised her eyebrow.  
“We’re about to head back.” she spoke, nudging her head back towards their table. “Zeth is getting in a mood, and I think she’s about to try arm wrestling half the bar.” A quick glance showed that the larger girl of the Happy Couple was flexing her arm, grinning as she looked around the place, Pink Hair was cooing and feeling up her girlfriend’s bicep.

Gothy Punk’s gaze turned towards Lance and she eyed him up and down, before looking back towards Keith. Lance had done the same multiple times to know the silent conversation her and Keith were discussing. She sighed, and shook her head, before walking towards Lance, glaring into her eyes.  
“Fuck with him, and you’ll need surgery to get my foot out of your ass.” she grumbled, before turning and walking back towards the table. Lance blinked, turning to look towards Keith.  
“I take it I passed?” he asked, smiling when Keith snorted.  
“I told you she’s protective.” they said, looking back towards Lance. He watched as they shifted from one foot to another, “So, did you want my number?”

Lance blinked a couple times, before he found himself smiling a bit wider. It was probably his goofy grin, but he couldn’t help it. “As a matter of fact, I would.” he said, reaching for his phone, listening as Keith laughed, carefully grabbing his own.

He waved to Keith afterwards, and watched him take a few steps away, before turning back around. He stumbled slightly when Keith tugged him with a bit too much force so they could plant a kiss against his cheek. Lance just barely caught the bright red of their cheeks as Keith hastily turned back around, calling out “ok, bye, I’ll text you!” as he ran back towards his sister and friends. He watched the group head towards the exit, and he definitely had a big, dopey smile on his face as he made his way back towards his friends.

All three of them were staring at him; Allura smiling politely, Hunk shaking his head as he took a sip of water, and Pidge giving him a flat, unimpressed stare.  
“You did it.” she told him as he sat down. “I told you that you couldn’t stop yourself from flirting.”  
Lance smirked, leaning back as he looked down to his phone, seeing a message from a recently added contact. “No,” he said, the smirk falling into a softer smile, “your words were quite clear. Don’t flirt with any _girls_.” he raised his head, looking his friend dead in the eyes. “Keith most certainly was _not_ a girl.”

Allura threw her head back, laughing. Hunk groaned, covering his face. Pidge’s eyes widened, sputtering before she began talking about _semantics_ and _it still counts_ and _you know what I meant don’t twist my words around on me!_

Lance ignored her as he sent Keith a message back, confirming that he would, in fact, like to meet up next weekend for a date.


End file.
